Chapter Twenty-Five

Georgina

 

 

I ran for two full blocks, blinded by rain and tears, breath burning in my straining lungs.

He knew. He knew I had cancer.

My heart felt like a thousand butterflies were trapped in the cage of my ribs along with it. I stopped under the shelter of a closed mall entrance and leaned against the large window. Inside, mannequins looked bright and happy in fluoro-colored sundresses. My saturated gray dress sagged around me, clinging and drooping against a body I hated in every way.

I collapsed onto the ground and dug through my bag. My fingers closed around my phone, and thankfully, it was still dry and working.

I wanted to call my mom. Have her come and collect me and hold me. Be stern with me about my choices, but clearly love and forgive me and just be happy I was alive.

Mom, why aren’t you here with me? I need you.

I couldn’t call Dad. What would I say to him?

So I called Julie.

It rang out three times. I checked the time and realized she was probably on her way home from work. I kept ringing.

Finally, she answered. “Hi.”

“Hey, Julie? Can I ask for a huge favor?”

Within twenty minutes, her little white smart car pulled up in front of me. The rain had eased a little, and I raced over and jumped in as quickly as I could. I landed on the passenger seat to find she’d laid down towels for me.

“You’ve got a strange idea of what a huge favor is,” Julie said plainly. “I thought you were going to ask for a kidney, not a lift home.”

“Thanks for coming to get me.” My voice shook.

She looked me over properly. “Are you okay? You haven’t been hurt by someone, have you?”

I shook my head, barely holding back my tears. “I’m okay. I just got caught out in the rain.” I’m the one who has been hurting people.

“You sure? You can tell me. I can come with you to report it.” Julie was as sincere as I’d ever seen her.

I shook my head, doing my best to look A-okay. “Really, I’ve done my time for the night. I just want to go home.”

“No problem.” Julie shrugged. She zipped back onto the road, her tiny car rocking with the sheets of rain, and her windscreen wipers pumping and squeaking their hearts out. “Oh hey, check it out.” She thumb pointed at the cotton tote bag beside my feet, which was full of chocolate.

I sniffled out a laugh. “Thank you. I need it more than you know.”

“That’s okay. Maybe we can do breakfast again. As long as you make the coffee to go with it.”

I watched her as she drove, so calm and sure of herself, and in her support of the complete mess sitting in the seat next to her. Julie was a surprise in my life I’d never expected.

“You’re such a good friend.” I tried to say it lightly, but I choked up halfway through.

Julie stopped at a red light and looked at me, her brown eyes wide and worried. “You’re my best friend,” she replied. “You can tell me anything. I want to help.”

Tears rushed from me harder and faster than the rain hitting the car. All the dams had broken inside me, and the truth flooded out. “I think, I think I have cancer. Again.”

Julie put the car into park, right there at the lights. She reached over and hugged me without saying a word. I clung to her, gulping through my sobs. “I’ve been so awful to everyone. I’m lying all the time. I don’t know what to do because I can’t face it.”

I kept trying to tell myself I was being brave by doing The List, challenging myself with the items on it as though they were dares. But I wasn’t. All I was doing was hiding, running, lying. I couldn’t face what was happening, and I was being a coward. The List wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough.

I wanted to live. I wanted more, more chocolate-eating time with Julie, more friends, more of a real relationship with Blake—more of my life.

Julie squeezed me tighter. The lights turned green, then red again as we stayed like that—me crying my heart out, her holding me. There were no cars behind us to honk us out of that embrace, and I clutched onto her like she was a life-buoy. Nothing could make this okay, but crying, being held, being honest, was a start.

“I’m not ready. I don’t want to die.” The words were wracked by sobs. “I don’t want to!”

The universe didn’t care what I wanted.

Neither did the car that smashed into us.